Alone
by FE Frog
Summary: Not all Daeins wanted a war. Not all Daeins wanted to fight. None of them had a choice. One-shot about a young Daein soldier during the Crimean invasion. Rated T for darker themes and violence.


FE Frog: My first FE one shot. If you're wondering why "OH MY GOD! FE FROG ISN'T WRITING HUMOUR! WHAT HAPPENED?" Then... I don't know. It was late when I wrote this.

Enjoy!

... Well, try to...

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><p>The dark clouds were rolling in now, as if they knew what we were about to do.<p>

I guess something had to warn the _enemy_.

Melior looked far far off, but I knew it would only take an hour to get there. An hour for them to assemble what meager forces they could muster.

I sat atop the hill, a woollen cloak wrapped around me as I watched for possible Crimean sentries. I doubted there would be any, but maybe word had gotten to the capital that we were coming.

I sighed, wishing my cloak offered more warmth in the chilly spring air. It didn't really help much over my uniform black armour. At least I wasn't alone. Every other soldier was issued the same armour. Only the General's got anything different and, possibly, warmer.

I felt like a clone in my ebony armour. Ever since I was recruited, I was worked to the same excruciating lengths as the thousands of others downhill behind me. We were all given the same training, same clothes, same weapons... Even the Daein insignia branded to each of our arms was in the same place. No backing down, or you would be killed on the spot the same way your friends were when they revolted against this 'order'.

So I kept my objections to myself and continued to fight. Not that I had a choice.

Ashnard- the demon who wore the crown of my once beautiful country- had forced every able man into his military. Many didn't even need much forcing when told the goal: to destroy Crimea.

Others, like me and the people of my village, who didn't see the use in starting a pointless war, needed so much forcing it could be considered inhumane.

The Daein army stormed our town after we refused to lend what strength we might have to Ashnard's twisted cause. They marched over our crops, carrying torches they threw at our houses. They took the women and children to-

I wiped the thought from my head, lest I start crying. Tears were forbidden here. We all had to keep the same stone faces as everyone else, or be tortured and killed.

I pulled my cloak tighter around myself. It was actually fairly warm earlier today. Beautiful, even. The sun had shone down on us, warming our pitch black armour, which in turn heated our frozen, shaking bodies.

Now the sun was gone, replaced by these black clouds as the evening wore on. The wind picked up, lifting the bottom of my cloak and chilling my legs and torso.

"Oi, Johnny boy."

I turned to see another soldier in black armour climbing the hill with a tray of food. All along the hill tops, other watches were getting their stale bread and dry, salty meat as well.

"Hello Richard." I said, moving my lance over for him to either sit or stand beside me.

He sat, placing the tray in front of him, "The General says the King wants to start marching in two hours' time."

Two hours. Two hours until we left our hiding place behind the hill. Three hours until Melior would be under attack, and maybe another two until it was completely destroyed. For what, I'm still not sure. We were told Crimea was allied with the lagu- _Sub-humans_, and that they were filthy people who deserved to die.

I don't know why another human nation deserved destruction for trying to be civil and unprejudiced. When we crossed the border to begin destroying the villages along the way, I couldn't help but disagree with the King's idea that these people weren't worth letting live.

The Crimeans were kind people, much kinder than us Daeins, and they weren't filthy at all. Unlike us, they got to work in the sunlight everyday as they plowed their fields. They lived like Kings compared to our citizens, who only had frozen soil and eternally grey skies.

And yet the army still invaded, convinced the King was right and the innocent people of our neighbouring country were villains. They- _We_ marched into villages and killed the men, going into the houses to find the women and children. It disgusted me.

"Johnny boy!" Richard said on our battalion's first village raid after the bodies of fifty too many men were lying about, "What are you doing just standing around?" He pointed to a house on the village's edge, "Come on. Let's check that one out before the others claim it for themselves."

He grabbed my arm before I could protest and ragged me along. I didn't want to use the women like the others did. And the children? Just the thought of violating innocent children like that made me sick.

The house was quiet when we entered, the furniture yet to be overturned, and the smell of fresh pastries filled the air.

"Oh yes!" Richard laughed, going over to the oven and looking inside, "Even a treat for us!"

I shook my head, appalled he would stoop so low.

Then I thought of the pies my own mother would make. How would I have felt if someone stole those? Rare treats my mother put so much effort into making...

"I... I can't do this." I said, turning to the door.

Richard looked up at me, "What? You're just going to run away like a coward?"

"They're innocent, Richard!"

He looked taken aback by my sudden outburst, then crossed his arms and snorted, "You run away and you'll be killed." He made his way over and grabbed my arm once more, pulling me towards the back of the house, "Once you see the game, just _try_ not to rip her clothes off."

I was ready to throw up as he pointed to a door for me, leaving through another next to it. I made my way to the door, my hand shaking as I turned the knob. What I found made me feel nothing but guilt, and hatred towards the man I thought was my friend.

A girl was huddled in the corner. She had been crying, but had probably stopped so we didn't hear her. She stared up at me with eyes full of horror.

I had to put a hand on the door frame to keep myself upright. The girl couldn't be older than fifteen, two years younger than myself.

She finally broke back into tears when someone screamed from the next room over, presumably her mother.

I hurried over to her, not knowing what I would do. Perhaps comfort her. She started screaming obscenities at me and kicked to keep me away.

"I'm not going to hurt you." I said as calmly and softly as possible. It was a lie, yes, but I wanted it to be true.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" She yelled, standing on shaky legs as I stepped back, "Get out of my house!"

She reminded me of my own sister, who had been the same age as her. When burning our village down didn't work, they took the defenceless- mothers and sisters, and even helpless babies. They threatened to kill my sister if I didn't join. So I went with them.

They killed her anyways.

I could never do the same to the vulnerable Crimean citizens. They didn't deserve it, even if they associated with lag- sub-humans.

I shook my head again, putting my lance down on the ground, "I'm not going to hurt you." This time it _wasn't_ a lie. "I want to help you escape."

"_NO!_" She screamed again, lunging at me. She managed to punch me in the face before I grabbed her arms and held her to me. She was defenceless... And she cried. "Just... kill me..." She sobbed, not even trying to free herself.

The request surprised me, and I couldn't help asking, "Why?"

The girl lowered her head, "My family is gone... My village... My baby sister... I have nothing to live for. Please, just kill me."

Even as I sat on the hill, six days later, I couldn't get the image of her face out of my head. I did kill her. I ran her through with my lance. It's what she wanted.

That girl was the first person I had ever killed.

Soon enough, we were marching, the sky completely black overhead, what with the clouds and night having fallen upon us.

A small Crimean battalion met us outside the gates to Melior, but they were all dead within minutes. Our army stormed past the twenty or so Crimean bodies and into the city, killing all Crimeans, soldier and citizen alike.

An hour later we arrived at the palace, where hundreds of mounted knights stood waiting. A man with dark armour and forest green hair was at the front, shouting something. The knights charged.

The man, presumably the selfish and bloodthirsty Prince Renning (was that truth or just another lie fed to us by the King?) easily cut through the first five lines of soldiers single handed.

Richard, who stood in front of me, fell just as easily as the countless before him.

Renning then looked at me, and I saw it. The determination in his eyes, the will to win and protect his country.

Then I felt something else.

No matter what I did, I was going to _die_. It scared me.

In fact, it scared me so much I dropped my lance and fell to my knees. I knew I couldn't even scratch the Prince, the _noble_ Prince of Crimea, if I tried... And then I would be dead with one swing of his sword.

Before I knew what I was doing, my mouth opened and my voice came out as a barely audible croak. "Just kill me."

An image of the girl, trembling as she tried to stay standing, came back to my mind. She had no one. _I_ had no one. My country took away everything that ever mattered to me. They took my life and shattered it into a million pieces. They didn't give back a single shard.

"Very well." Was the Prince's answer.

I always wondered what it would be like to die. Before becoming a soldier, I thought I would die old, and people would care. My family, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren would be there to send me off because they loved me. My friends who were still alive would attend because I mattered a lot to them. I thought I would die peacefully.

After I joined the army, the captains would tell us over and over how we were making our country proud by fighting for it, and that if we died, it would be with honour.

Now I knew, though, that I would die on a dark day doing what I hated most. The only person who cared for me, albeit barely, was already dead in front of me.

The metal of the blade chilled my insides. It hurt. I couldn't breathe. Then the sword was pulled back out and I screamed before falling to the ground, wanting to cough but nothing coming out.

My mouth filled with metallic tasting liquid. I put a hand to my lips and saw blood on my fingers.

My life didn't flash before my eyes like some said it would, either. Instead, my thoughts were empty. Except for one thing. One scary realization remained.

_I'm dying_.

I could no longer hear the cries of Crimean and Daein alike. I could no longer smell the putrid smell of death. I could no longer feel my life's blood running out of me, into the cracks and crevices between the cobblestones.

No bright lights beckoned me. No dark angel came to grab me by the throat and bring me to hell, where I belonged.

I was just lying on the street of a foreign city in a foreign country. No one gave me a second glance as they fought on. No one cared. I doubted anyone even knew I existed.

I closed my eyes to it all, hoping that maybe I could find peace in death, instead of endless nightmares for the rest of eternity. Maybe I would be reunited with my sister, my mother, my father... But for now, I was all alone.


End file.
